Life Gives A Choice
by MyHorrorStory
Summary: Because so many things could have happened to George Crabtree in twenty years time.


A/N:Just a random Gemily one shot. Notmuch excitement, but kind of cute. I've beentinkering with this idea for some time, and now Ifinally wrote the story. Enjoy!

PS: the start isset in late1913, and the ending is set in 1921. Also, please excuse me for any mistakes.

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 **Life Gives A Choice**

It was a Saturday afternoon; the only time George and Emily could spend some time alone together, away from the three Crabtree juniors. The couple usually went to a French cafe across the street, but sometimes they went out to an expensive restaurant  
/for brunch. This time, the two decided to stick to their usual choice.

"It's a lovely day, isn't it George? Thank goodness all that dreadful rain has gone. I don't think I could stand one more drop of it", said Emily, taking a sip of her black tea, which she favored over any beverage. _"Tea keeps you warm, hydrated and relaxed; the three things any busy man or woman needs every day",_ she  
/would say at breakfast before going to work. George always preferred coffee–it was more modern, and he considered himself 'a modern manin a modern time'. His wife, of course, found this comical. She knew George for 14years, and never thought

of him as a 'modern man'.

"It's unusually hot though, for September. I must say that I am tired of the heat", he said in response, pouring some milk into his coffee. His wife tilted her head slightly, as if she were thinking of something peculiar. She smiled and looked into her  
/husbands eyes.

"George, do you remember back in 1903 you said that you wanted to become a sailor and travel all around the world?", she asked, as if it were a completely normal question to ask someone whilst having tea at an overcrowded French cafe. George hesitated,  
/furrowing his eyebrows the way he does when he is mildly confused.

"I might have wanted that at some point of my life", he answered quietly, stirring his coffee with a spoon.

It had been George's lifelong dream to become a sailor and sail across the ocean to distant countries and new islands. But over time, that dream has faded, and the older he got, the more he wanted to get married, start a family, and spend the rest of  
/his life in Toronto as detective of Station House #4. And now, he was living that life with Emily.

"Do you still want to do any of that, George?", Emilyasked curiously, placing her hands under her chin. She wanted to know if her husband was living the life he actually wanted.

George shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I honestly don't know. It would be nice to be on board a real ship with a real captain for once, but now that we have three children to take care of, I hardly think that being a sailor would suit me", he said,  
/taking a bite out of his biscuit. "And I wanted that when I was young Emily. Now that I'm older, I know what Ireally want, and that's being with you, Ernest, Lauren and Robert. My beautifulfamily".

Emily smiled at his words. She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek, just because he was so wonderful. He has been flattering her since 1899, ever since she came to Toronto as Dr. Emily Graceto work on her first autopsy. "I love you, George.  
/Now, we must get back home, the children are waiting".

 _"Lower the anchor, lads!", came a shout from across the deck._

 _"Yes captain!", they shouted back, doing as he said._

 _George never felt more at home. With the wind blowing through his hair, and the fresh scent of the sea in the air, he knew that he would spent the rest of his days on board The Marshall._

 _Sure he missed his days back at the constabulary, but this new, adventurous lifestyle suited him perfectly. It was almost as if he were living in a dream..._

Which it was. George woke up with a loud thud. He had fallen off the bed. Getting up to climb back in bed, he heard Emily stir in her sleep.

"Is everything alright, dear?", she asked groggily, placing an arm around his sighed, "Yes, everything's fine, go back to sleep, Emily", he said, staring up at the ceiling until he felt his wife fall asleep in his arms.

"Father,what isthis?", asked a 13-year-old Ernest, who was looking through the Crabtree's attic. He was holding a stack of parchment, and reading some of the faded handwriting on it.

George turned his attention to his oldest son, distracting himself from playing dolls with three year old Margaret. He took the paper from Eenest's hands, and studied it carefully. His mouth fell wide open when he realized what his son had found.

"Emily!", he exclaimed, climbing down the ladder and abandoning his two children. "Emily, come look at this!".

His wife was clean my the kitchen with the help of Laura. She turned around and looked at her husband with a smirk. "What is it, George?", she asked, walking up to him to see what he had to show her once again.

"Look at this", he whispered in awe. Emily looked at the papers in his hands and smiled. "Isn't this part of that story you were writing a long time ago?", she said, taking the sheets from him and reading some of the material.

"Yes. That was way back when I still wanted to sail across the ocean!", he exclaimed. Emily laughed quietly.

"Those were the days, weren't they?", she whispered, kissing George on the cheek. They both smiled and thought of the times when they were young and innocent, chasing their dreams to where they were now.


End file.
